


Backwards

by TaliskerMortem



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Accidental Cuddling, Accidental Grinding, Accidental Marriage, Accidental Stimulation, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Las Vegas Wedding, M/M, More will be added when the story gets there, Playing House, Roommates, Somnophilia, sort of...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-18 19:33:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1440208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaliskerMortem/pseuds/TaliskerMortem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles Stilinski receives a call from a man he didn’t hookup with in Las Vegas three months previously, he has no idea that his life is about to be turned upsides down. And there is a good chance that everything that happens next, happens backwards. Or at least not in the traditional order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's Been Over Sixty Days

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is really rushed but I've had these plot bunnies running through my head for weeks so I just wanted to get something down, I'm not great at starting fics but here it is. I'm not sure how long this will be but I can assure you that it will contain many, many tropes. Because that's just what my mind has decided to do. I'll probably go over and edit this later but if there's anything that really doesn't make sense or any glaring mistakes, please let me know! Otherwise enjoy!

“It’s been three weeks Stilinski! If you don’t find some way to produce the full amount by Friday then I will be forced to evict you. I don’t care if you’ve got personal problems or your puppy is ill or- _For gods sake will you do something about that bloody phone before I throw it out the fucking window!_ ” his landlord bellowed when Stiles’ phone rang for the sixth time during their short conversation.

 

“I don’t know who it is! It’s some unknown number and they won’t stop calling, they've been at it all freaking morning,” Stiles spat out, hitting the ‘Reject Call’ button for the thousandth time.

 

“Well why don’t you answer it then? Clearly someone is trying to get ahold of you. Or do you have other debt you’re trying to run from as well?” the landlord – Mr Samson – barked, at his wits end with his scatterbrain tenant.

 

“No! I just don’t want to pick up the phone to a fucking stranger,” Stiles retorted.

 

“What if its someone important? Maybe your folks are in trouble or something?” Samson suggested, sighing internally at the younger man's antics.

 

“Fine, next time I’ll pick up,” Stiles snapped, but there was less bite to his tone now. “Look, I’ll pay the rent as soon as I can, I’m not trying to scam you out or anything,” he sighed. “Give me two weeks and I should have it.”

 

“Ten days Stilinski. Or eviction,” Samson conceded before the irritating lyrics of Stiles’ ringtone blared out once again. “And pick up the damn phone,” he added on, shutting the door behind him as Stiles aggressively jabbed the ‘Accept’ button.

 

“WHAT?” he shouted down the device, not bothering to bid his landlord goodbye.

 

“Is this Szczepan Stilinski?” a gruff and unfamiliar voice asked.

 

“ _Stiles_! For god’s sake, it’s _Stiles_. How the hell you managed to find that name let alone pronounce it, I have no idea,” Stiles huffed down the phone. “What do you want?”

 

“Uh, well, _Stiles_ , my name is Derek Hale, we met a few months ago, in Las Vegas,” the gruff voice sneered. “It seems we have to have a little chat and I would much prefer to do it in person rather tha-”

 

“Holy _shit_!” Stiles interrupted. “You’re not built-like-a-Greek-God-Derek are you?”

 

“Uh…”

 

“Fuck, of course you are. It’s not like I woke up naked next to any other Dereks,” he muttered more to himself than to the person on the other end of the phone.

 

“Mr Stilinski, we really need to talk and I would like to arrange a meeting with you at your earliest possible convenience,” the voice – _Derek_ – continued, ignoring Stiles mutterings.

 

“Why? No offence but I really don’t make a habit of arranging meetings with past hookups,” he snorted, not in the mood for whatever the hell this was.

 

“We didn’t _hookup_ ,” Derek Hale gritted out. “And neither do I – _believe_ _me_ – but this is important and I don’t want to do it over the phone. I already know you live in Boston about twenty minutes away from where I live so don’t bother trying to claim the distance as an obstacle.”

 

“Dude,” Stiles breathed. “Firstly, _creepy_. Second… um, creepy. How the hell do you know where I live? You’re really not making the idea of meeting you any more attractive.”

 

“Meet me in Render Coffee on Columbus Ave tomorrow at eleven,” Derek Hale snapped. “If you’re late I will call you every ten minutes until you pick up. It’s public so don’t worry, I’m not going to molest you.” And then he hung up. Honest to god hung up. Stiles stared at his phone for a good minute before shaking his head and scrolling through his contacts to make another call.

 

“Stilo,” a chirpy voice greeted him.

 

“Erica,” Stiles forgoes their usual greeting. “I need some help.”

 

“Is this about rent? Because you know you can crash with me any time honey,” she offered immediately.

 

“No it’s not about rent – although that might be a possibility, thanks. But you remember when we took off to Vegas last June? And I disappeared that one night with that dude – the really fucking hot one?”

 

“Don’t tell me-” she interrupted, then pauses dramatically. “You’re pregnant.”

 

“Ah ha ha,” Stiles replied sarcastically. “Very funny but no. He just rang, well actually he’s been ringing all day but I only just picked up and he wants to meet and he knows my first name and where I live and it’s really creepy but yeah, he wants to meet at Renders tomorrow and I don’t know what to do,” Stiles rushed before Erica could interrupt him again.

 

“Whoa, are you actually thinking of meeting him?”

 

“Well it is a public place and he seemed pretty serious about it. He said we had to talk and he wanted to do it in person. It seems a lot of effort to track down a hookup that happened several states away and so long ago,” Stiles explained. “Besides, he was a pretty decent person from what I remember of him in Vegas.”

 

“Stiles you said you didn’t remember anything from that night in Vegas,” Erica sighed.

 

“Not the night, but the morning after,” he blushed. “We didn’t have sex or anything but he bought me breakfast and paid for the room we had stayed in.”

 

“I’m coming with you,” she decided.

 

“What?”

 

“There’s no way I’m letting you meet a stranger on your own Stilo, no matter how public the place. I’m coming with you and so it Boyd,” she said with finality.

 

“Fine,” Stiles conceded. “Come over at ten and help me find something to wear, I’m not kidding when I say this guy is fucking gorgeous.”

 

-X-

 

The following morning found Stiles twenty minutes late with two missed calls already on his phone. As he pushed open the coffee shop door, he quickly scanned the room in search of Derek Hale. Behind him a woman coughed, alerting him to the fact he was blocking the doorway.

 

“Mr Stilinski,” a voice called from across the shop. And Stiles found his breath was sucked from his lungs in a similar fashion to the way it had back in Las Vegas almost three months before. This guy was unreal.

 

“Mr Hale,” Stiles rolled his eyes as he made his way over to where he was sitting. “I’ve seen you naked, I think we’re past last name terms,” he smirked.

 

“Fine then, _Szczepan_ ,” Derek snorted.

 

“Jesus, seriously?” Stiles muttered, taking a seat across from him. “It’s Stiles alright, I’m pretty sure the only place that abomination is written down is on my birth certificate so how the hell you found it I have no idea,” he frowned.

 

“Well it’s also on your marriage certificate,” Derek replied, his voice so complete monotonous that it took Stiles a moment to register what he had said.

 

“On my _what_?” he hissed. “On my marriage certificate? I don’t even have one! I’m not married!” Stiles exclaimed so loudly that several people glance over at them. He didn’t notice Erica (who had come in with her boyfriend, Boyd, a little while before him) choking on her coffee a few tables over.

 

“Actually, it would appear you are,” Derek deadpaned, sliding a piece of paper across to him. “Or, more accurately, that _we_ are.”

 

“We are what?” Stiles asked dumbly. Because there is no way this was real.

 

“That we are married,” was the taunt response.

 

“That’s funny Hale, I didn’t have you down as the humorous type,” Stiles decided, leaning back in his seat and tapping the table.

 

“It’s not intended to be funny _Stiles_ ,” Derek huffed, sipping his coffee. This time Stiles did catch sight of Erica; she was collapsed over the table, clutching her stomach with laughter. Even Boyd had a fucking smile on his face.

 

“You can’t be serious,” Stiles frowned.

 

“I really wish I wasn’t.”

 

“Hey! There are worse people to be married to,” Stiles instantly defended himself at which point Erica very nearly fell off her chair. He could have sworn the corner of Hale’s mouth twitched up as well. “But that’s besides the point. We can’t be married.”

 

“I’m afraid we can be and we are,” Hale sighed.

 

“Is there any proof this is real?” Stiles waved a hand at the certificate lying on the table between them. “How did you even get this anyway?”

 

“It came in the mail.”

 

“It came in the mail?”

 

“Yes, it came in the mail.”

 

“Okay, it came in the mail.”

 

“Look this is all irrelevant, the fact of the matter is that we’re married and while I don’t have some significant other that I might want to propose to in the immediate future, I also don’t particularly want to be married to a complete stranger so we have to do something about it,” Hale huffed.

 

“Like an annulment?”

 

“Well… We could’ve had an annulment on the grounds of intoxication if we’d known earlier,” Derek replied awkwardly. “But it’s been more than sixty days.”

 

“Oh… fuck. Can’t we get it on grounds that it was never consummated?”

 

“There’s footage of us kissing at the chapel and at the hotel, I checked, besides we shared a room and woke up naked together, proving that it wasn’t consummate is going to be pretty damn hard. We’re going to have to get a divorce which should be fairly straight forward but it will take a while,” he stared into his coffee cup, deep in thought.

 

“Well, I’m not in any rush,” Stiles shrugged. “How the hell do you go about getting a divorce anyway?”

 

“I’ll sort it all out, I’ll just need you to sign the papers when they come through if that’s okay?”

 

“Sounds fine to me. You already have my number – which is still creepy by the way, I don’t care if we’re legally married – so just text me when you want me to sign,” Stiles replied easily.

 

“Okay, thanks,” Hale breathed out, his expression unreadable.

 

“Okay then, well I guess I'll get going, I’ve got to be at work in- _shit,_ now!” Stiles cursed, standing up and almost tripping over his feet. “Okay then, bye, call me or text or whatever,” he threw over his shoulder as he stumbled out of the coffee shop, the sound of Erica’s laughter echoing behind him. Why was he friends with her again? Oh well.

 

Derek Hale watched him flail out of the shop and down the street with a pained look on his face. He would just get the divorce papers. They would sign them and that would be it. Or at least it should have been.


	2. Legally A Hale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has problems with finance now that he's a married man. Derek offers a solution.

Enjoy! If you want to pester me on tumblr, I'm [here](http://taliskermortem.tumblr.com).

* * *

 

It took three days before Stiles was really forced to think about the fact that no matter how unreal it seemed, he really was married to Derek Hale. The fact that he was married alone was something of a shock to the system but once he had escaped the coffee shop and lost himself in his work, he had been able to push it to the back of his mind. Derek Hale, however, was not a man that one could simply forget.

But that was all irrelevant. The fact of the matter was that he was currently three and a half weeks behind on rent and was now unable to claim the support he had previously relied (a little too heavily) upon because his marriage had somehow made its way onto the system and the fact that he was legally bound to Derek Hale meant that he no longer qualified. Because apparently Hale earned far, far more than he did.

“What am I supposed to do Erica,” Stiles whined. “There’s no way I can make the rent, I’m going to get evicted and that place is shitty enough as it is, what if I have to find somewhere even worse?”

“We’ll figure it out Stilo,” she smiled fondly, stroking her fingers through his hair comfortingly. “You can crash with Boyd and I until we find somewhere suitable for you to live,” she promised.

“I don’t want to be a burden though,” he confessed. “You and Boyd have only just moved in together and lord knows how long it took you to get there,” he teased. “I don’t want to spoil your knew found togetherness.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Stiles,” Erica chuckled. “You’re around often enough that it wouldn’t really make that much of a difference and all our walls are soundproof so it’s not like you would be able to hear us having sex or anything,” she smirked.

“Rub it in why don’t you,” he snorted. “Well I’ve still got a week until Samson kicks me out so we’ll figure it out then. But I’m going to have to talk to Hale.” The sigh Stiles let out made Erica laugh again, a full bellied chuckle that was as infectious as it was obnoxious. Stiles elbowed her in the ribs. “I sometimes forget what a great friend you are,” he snorted sarcastically.

“You couldn’t live without we Stilinski,” she grinned and Stiles couldn’t disagree.

“Should I call him or text him?” he frowned, pulling out his phone.

“Call him, Boyd says he’s hopeless at texting,” Erica replied, standing up and heading for the kitchen.

“How would Boyd know?” Stiles followed her.

“He’s Boyd’s boss,” she grinned and Stiles could tell she had been waiting to drop this tidbit of information in for a while.

“ _What_?” Stiles practically screamed. “Erica Reyes, you had better have a fucking good reason for keeping that to yourself! What the fucking! Boyd’s _boss_? Holy _shit_! Boyd earns at least three times what I do, his boss must be fucking loaded,” he groaned.

“You married him Stilo, maybe you can scab something off him in your divorce,” she teased, pulling pans out of the cupboards.

“Ha ha, I’m not that desperate,” Stiles grimaced. “And please tell me you’re not about to start cooking, last time you tried to do that I ended up in A&E with food poisoning,” he grumbled.

“Fuck you Stilinski,” she laughed. “I can cook!”

“Erica, you burn _water_ ,” Stiles protested.

“Okay find, I’m just getting it ready because I’m hungry and Boyd’ll be home in a few minutes,” she huffed. “But I _can_ cook.” Stiles just rolled his eyes. “You staying?”

“Nah, I’ll get out of your hair and leave you to have coupley time,” Stiles replied, attempting to ruffle her hair.

-X-

In the end, Stiles didn’t have to worry about whether he should call or text Derek Hale because at exactly seven o’clock the following afternoon, just as he was finishing his shift in the library, Stiles’ phone went off with call from an unknown number.

“Hello, this is Stilinski speaking,” he blabbed, rummaging around in his backpack for the tattered umbrella he knew was hiding in there.

“Actually, you’re legally a Hale now,” a gruff voice responded.

“What?” Stiles frowned, pulling out the remains of his lunch and some pens to get better access to the depths of his bag.

“You’re legal name – you took my name,” the voice explained and it takes Stiles a moment to realize that the person on the other end of the phone was in fact Derek Hale, his _husband_. He should probably have saved that number.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Stiles groaned. “Why the hell would I do that?”

“I have no idea,” Hale replied, clearly a little amused. “But that’s not what I was calling about. A colleague of mine who claims to know you mentioned that you would be saying with him for a while because of your finances,” Hale continued.

“I’m going to kill Erica,” Stiles gritted out through his teeth.

“Homicide aside,” snorted Hale. “It was brought to my attention that you are now unable to claim the support you require due to our… situation-”

“You make me sound like a dirty little secret Hale,” interrupted Stiles with a smirk.

“I was _going_ to offer you an alternative,” he continued, ignoring Stiles completely.

“Uh huh and what would that alternative be?”

“You want to meet for coffee?” asked Hale, once again acting as it Stiles hadn’t spoken.

“Can’t get enough of your hubby?” Stiles teased. When Hale just didn’t respond, Stiles continued: “Yeah, fine, I’m free now if you like. Or we could have dinner, I’m starved.”

“Meet me at the diner near Renders?” Hale suggested. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” And then he hangs up. Without so much as waiting for a response. God the guy was a prick.

Twenty minutes later, however, found Stiles roughly shoving open the door to said diner, dripping wet. His umbrella (when he had finally found it) was completely useless to the onslaught of rain that the heavens had decided to dump on him this evening. Glancing around, he immediately spotted Hale chatting away to one of the pretty waitresses, a positively dazzling smile on his face. However, the closer Stiles got, the more he suspected the smile was fake.

“Hello charming husband of mine,” Stiles sang as he took the seat across the table from Hale, sending a wink his way while he was at it. The waitress looked startled, glancing between the two men in confusion. Hale simply glared at Stiles but didn’t correct him. Not that there was anything to correct, they were after all, legally married.

“Can I get you a drink sir?” the waitress asked uncertainly.

“Coffee please,” Stiles smiled, a smile that was almost as fake as the one he had wiped of Hale’s face a moment before hand. The waitress nodded and scurried off.

“You drink coffee with dinner?” frowned Hale.

“Been on my feet all day,” he shrugged. “So what is this fine proposition you have for me? It’s not something outrageous like: will you marry me? Because I’m pretty sure we’ve already done that,” he teased as the waitress brought him his drink and handed them some menus. Hale waited until she was gone before replying.

“This is going to sound fairly crazy, I’ll admit,” Hale said to the bottom of his glass. “But I was thinking that maybe you could move in with me instead?” And Stiles- Well yes, Stiles definitely choked on his coffee, spilling the hot liquid down his front. “Just hear me out,” Hale exclaimed, shoving some napkins in Stiles’ direction. “I know it’s insane but it’s my fault that you’re struggling and do you really want to impose on a newly engaged couple?”

“Boyd and Erica are engaged?” Stiles almost choked again.

“Huh? Oh, I thought he asked her already?” Hale frowned.

“Nuh uh,” Stiles shook his head vigorously. “I’d be the first one Erica would tell. Actually, I’m pretty sure she’ll be the one asking him anyway.”

“Oh, my mistake,” shrugged Hale. “But anyway, it makes the most financially sense, I have a spare room as my sister just moved down to New York and the apartment is really too big for one person. I can’t be bothered to look for a someone to rent the other room and Boyd assures me that while you have your… quirks-” Stiles snorted, “-you’re not going to try to kill me in my sleep.”

“So you think I should just move in with you?”

“It made sense in my head,” Hale huffed, clearly a little embarrassed. “Alternatively, I could just pay you what you would have got otherwise-”

“No!” Stiles rushed. “No, that’s fine. Are you really serious about having me move in with you?”

“I… Yeah, it makes sense.”

“Okay,” Stiles shrugged.

“Okay as in ‘Okay I’m serious’ or ‘Okay I think it’s a great idea and I’ll move in with you to clear your conscience and save you having to look for a room mate when your in your late twenties and it’s just embarrassing’?” Hale rushed in a way that Stiles suspected was an awful lot like how he himself spoke most of the time.

“Uh… Okay as in ‘Okay I’ll consider it because otherwise I’m going to be homeless or living on a horrifically uncomfortable couch while one of my best friends has sex next door’?” Stiles didn’t know why it came out as more of a question than an answer but it did. And Hale was smirking. “Where do you live?”

“About a ten minute walk away from here.”

“You know this is insane right? I mean we’re strangers who hooked up and accidentally got married in _Vegas_ …”

“We didn’t hook up,” Hale huffed again.

“I guess that depends on your definition of hooking up because I distinctly remember some fondling going on,” Stiles grinned at the blush crawling up Hale’s neck.

“How come you remember that and not getting _married_?” he hissed.

“I think by that time the alcohol was starting to wear off a bit…” muttered Stiles, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “That and I’m pretty sure you gave me the best orgasm of my life using only you tongue,” he snorted.

“Oh my god!” Hale whined. “We’re in a family place!”

“Eh,” he shrugged again. “So what you eating?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Hale muttered.

“Yeah well, you want me to move in with you so who’s the crazier one?”

“I’m beginning to regret the offer,” was the response but Stiles could see the corner of his mouth twitch and knew he was joking.

 


	3. Walking Into Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles moves in with Derek and discovers he is a man of few words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took a while but here we go. Enjoy. This is kinda dedicated to fiftyshadesofdebauchery on tumblr who left me a lovely ask in my inbox that prompted me to write this chapter. Sorry it's a bit filler-y.

“Erica,” Stiles whined. “This is all your fault!”

“How is this my fault Stilinski?” she huffed.

“Hmm… Let me see,” he put a finger to his chin in imitation of pondering. “It was your decision to go to Vegas. You were the one who sexiled me so I had to go and entertain myself and ran into ‘Greek God’. You were the one who let me meet him at Renders for coffee. You were the one who made Boyd tell him about my finances so now he feels guilty,” Stiles checked each point off on his fingers. “So yes… It is _definitely_ your fault,” he finished, throwing a handful of shirts down on the bed and missing his suitcase by a mile.

“Oh come on Stilo,” she rolled her eyes. “If it goes tits-up then our spare room is always waiting for you,” Erica promised. “And Derek’s a nice guy, so long as you don’t piss him off too much I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“How long has Boyd known him?” Stiles asks for the sixth time since Erica arrived to help him pack his bags.

“ _Years_ ,” sighed Erica. “Stop worrying about it.”

“I still think this is a bad idea,” he grumbled.

“Then don’t do it. Simple as that. But I know you will because you’re Stiles Stilinski-”

“Actually I’m technically Stiles Hale now,” Stiles interrupts.

“-and you can’t leave things alone because curiosity is in your nature and you _really_ want to know what kind of house Derek has and you secretly want to bang him and this is so going to end messy but you know that and you’re going to do it anyway because that’s who you are,” she beamed. And it was true. She knew him better than anyone except for Scott (who still lived in Beacon Hills) and his Dad (who also still lived in Beacon Hills).

“What’s the saying again? Curiosity killed the cat?” he grimaced.

“And satisfaction brought it back,” she practically purred, a lewd look in her eyes.

-X-

When Stiles finally arrived at Derek’s – he had braved Erica’s driving rather than have the embarrassment of Derek picking him up – he was exhausted. Not to mention the copious amount of anxiety that was doing nothing to alleviate his mood. Erica had told him to relax a hundred times but Stiles still found his fingers twisting together in nervous apprehension. He was about to move in with his _husband_. Who he had met a grand total of _three_ times. And who was also _exceptionally_ good looking. There was no way this was going to end well.

Stepping out of the car, Stiles whistled quietly through his teeth. Derek’s place was one of those old red brick houses that had been split up into apartments and practically oozed wealth. Stiles had walked passed these buildings multiple times during his time in Boston – in fact, in the last three months he had walked passed buildings numerous times with not a clue that his _husband_ lived inside one.

This was absurd.

“Come Stinky,” Erica grinned, opening the boot of the car and pulling out one of Stiles’ bags. “Let’s go check out this dive.”

“Funny,” muttered Stiles, begrudgingly hauling two other bags out of the car and slinging them over his shoulder. “Not only and I now dependent on this dude, I’m also going to feel so wildly out of my comfort zone in his place it’s not even funny.”

“Relax Stilo,” Erica smiled, nudging him with her elbow. “Derek’s cool. You’re cool. This apartment is cool. You can all be cool together.”

They didn’t even make it up the steps to the door before it was swinging open and Derek was standing there looking almost as nervous as Stiles was feeling. Which didn’t make any sense in Stiles’ opinion.

“Hey,” he greeted them. “Can I get anything?”

“Uh… There’s a box in the boot but that’s about it,” Stiles shrugged as Erica awkwardly retrieved her keys again to unlock the car for Derek to get the remaining box. It was basically full of his favourite books.

“Go on up,” Derek jerked his head to the door and Erica pushed her way into the building. “I’m sorry about the mess,” he added on quietly to Stiles.

“Dude, it’s fine,” he chuckled. “You’re basically saving my ass so I think I can cope with a little mess,” he teased and Derek smiled slightly. “Besides, I lived with Erica for three years, I know how to make my way around a bomb site,” he smirked.

With a lot of heaving and a few curses, the three of them made it up into Derek’s apartment and Stiles was once again left gaping. There were leather sofas. Actual _leather sofas_. And a bookcase that ran the entire length of one wall. It was like he had walked into heaven.

Also, there was no mess to speak of.

“I cleared out a section at the end for you,” Derek nodded to an empty portion of the bookcase when he noticed where Stiles was staring. “We can make more room if you need it.” Dragging his eyes away from the multitude of books, Stiles looked over at his new roommate, his eyes wide with amazement and gratitude. They didn’t speak but Derek’s subtle nod showed he understood Stiles’ silent thank you.

A cough behind them broke their silent communication as Erica dumped the bag she had been carrying on the floor a little too forcefully. There was a wicked grin on her faces as she looked at Stiles but he could see the hesitation in her eyes as well. And he knew what she was thinking – this could end so very badly.

“Well I’ve got to go back and screw my boyfriend but I’ll see you tomorrow Stilo,” she says with no room for negotiation. “Also Boyd wants to invite both of you to dinner on Saturday so clear any plans you have,” she smiles.

“Yes sir,” Stiles muttered, making Derek snort. Erica rolled her eyes before backing out of the apartment and shooting Stiles a look over her shoulder that clearly stated if he didn’t call her later he was going to be in serious trouble.

The two men stood there awkwardly for a while before Derek shifted on his feet and picked up the bag Erica had dropped. “So… Um. You’re room is this way,” he mumbled. Following him into a small adjacent room, Stiles was greeted by the most comfortable looking bed he had ever laid eyes upon. “Laura decorated most of the house except my room so sorry if it’s a bit feminine,” Derek frowned, glancing over at the stack of cushions that were heaped on the bed.

“Dude is awesome,” Stiles whistled. “You’re sister has good taste.”

“Um… thanks?” was the confused response. “I’ll just… Leave you to settle in,” he muttered and then the door was being closed behind him and Stiles was left alone with three bags and a box at his feet.

-X-

Lying back on the bed, Stiles inspected the room he had landed himself in by pure chance (and maybe a dash of stupidity). It wasn’t particularly big – a little smaller than his room in his dad’s house but definitely bigger than anything he’d had since then – but the colouring was light and the big mirror on the wall by the door reflected the light from the window and made the room seem bigger than it was. The bed was a simple double with a wooden frame and draws underneath on both sides. The built in closet was definitely bigger than he needed and his possessions took up less than half the space available.

When all his bags were empty, Stiles picked up the box with his books and managed to open the door with his butt. Peaking around, he saw no sign of Derek so proceeded into the living space. It wasn’t like he was trying to _avoid_ the man, he was just a little wary of invading his apartment without really being given any guidelines.

But as already established, Stiles is a curious person. Dumping the box by the bit of shelving Derek had cleared for him, Stiles turned to inspect the room. It was a large space, almost symmetrical at this end, and combined the living room, dinning area and kitchen into one. At the other end was the front door and to the left was the kitchen area. To the right of the door was a solid wooden table with four upright leather chairs that looked to Stiles to hardly ever be used, as there was a fancy decoration ornament thing in the middle of the table that struck him as fiddly to maneuver.

The huge leather corner sofa blocked of the living room section and was surrounded by a couple more leather recliners, a ginormous beanbag, a small wood and glass coffee table that Stiles feared he was going to end up braining himself on and a massive flat-screen TV. Stiles was pretty sure if he sat down there he would never get up again.

Directly across from the door to his room was an identical door that he suspected lead to Derek’s room and between them stood an old-fashioned wooden desk with a laptop and heaps of papers littered across it. There was also another door along the wall from Derek’s room that had been left ajar and Stiles could make out the bathroom. Followed by another which turned out to be the utility room with a washing machine and dryer (no more launderettes!).

On his second tour of the apartment Stiles noticed little things. Like the absence of photographs and the dying plant that took up a shelf in the bookcase. He noticed the kitchen was too tidy to be regularly used and the left recliner was the only seat that had an indent from use. On the breakfast bar that separated the living area from the kitchen was a note.

_Stiles,_

_Gone to work, will be back late. I’ve cleared out the first cupboard and the top shelf of the fridge for you. TV remote is in the coffee table draw and the Wi-Fi password is:_ QueenOfMoondoor _(Laura set it up). Hope you settle in okay,_

Stiles took two things from the note. One (that he was beginning to suspect already), was that his ‘husband’ was a man of very few words and two, was that he very much wanted to meet said husband’s sister. He quickly connected his laptop to the Wi-Fi and opened up Skype.

“Hey Stilo,” Erica greeted him from his screen. “How’s the hubby?”

“Funny,” Stiles rolled his eyes. “He’s gone to work and left me a note.”

“A note?” she repeated. “Seriously? You are gonna have to work on that man’s communication issues.”

“Tell me about it,” he snorted. “Anyway, I can’t be bothered to go grocery shopping so do you want to get pizza?”

“Sure on the condition that I get to come over and snoop around,” she grinned.

“I’m not sure,” he frowned. “I never got to ask the guy about having people over.”

“Dude, you’re not his kid. Text him if it’s that big of a deal but I’m coming over anyway so I’ll see you in a bit.” And then she disconnected the chat and Stiles was left wondering how he always ended up with people in his life that consistently hung up on him.

Taking her advice, he sent Derek a quick message saying: _Erica’s coming over for pizza, hope that’s okay_. And was rewarded three minutes later with: _Don’t get it on the leather._ Which he took as a yes.


	4. Socially Awkward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek comes home and ground rules are established.

It was almost two o’clock in the morning by the time Derek finally made it home from work. It wasn’t that he was avoiding his new roommate but he just thought it would be better to let him settle in on his own accord without him around. He had been surprised by this text he had received as no one really texted him these days. They knew how hopeless he was at texting. But he didn’t have a problem with Erica coming over. He wanted Stiles to be comfortable. It was his fault he was in this mess to begin with, the least he could do was make Stiles feel welcome.

Of course, what he was not expecting was for Erica and Stiles to still be up when he got back. There were two discarded pizza boxes on the kitchen counter and several empty beer bottles on the coffee table they had pushed a little to the side. Stiles had connected some kind of gaming device to the TV and the two of them were so focused on destroying everything on the screen they didn’t even notice Derek coming in.

“You’re going down Stilinkski!” Erica practically screeched as the animated character on her side of the screen unloaded a string of bullets and the figure on the other half of the screen jerked wildly before the screen faded to black. Derek chuckled slightly from where he was still standing by the breakfast bar.

Two heads simultaneously spun around to greet him – Erica was just grinning (an expression he was beginning to think was her default one) whilst Stiles looked shocked and a little guilty. Pressing some buttons on his controller, Stiles stood up mumbling some kind of apology.

“Stiles,” Derek said softly. “It’s fine, really. It’s actually kind of nice to see the bloody TV being used,” he snorted. Stiles shifted awkwardly on his feet, glancing at Erica.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” he shrugged at last.

“I think you were to busy being shot at,” Derek smirked.

“You bet your ass he was,” was Erica’s delighted reply. “Stiles is paranoid you’re going to kick him out for moving the coffee table by the way so I’ll be honest and say that was me. Although why you’d kick him out for moving a freaking table I have no idea. Anyway, what times is it? Holy shit! _Stiles_ ,” she whines, pouting at him. “I promised Boyd I’d be back by midnight to have some sexy time and look what you’ve done!”

“It wasn’t _my_ fault,” Stiles glared. “ _You’re_ the one who insisted I set up the Xbox so that you could beat my ass _again_.”

“Whatever, I’m going home to wake Boyd up,” she grumbled, reaching for the leather jacket she had chucked over one of the dinning chairs when she had come in. “Later Stilo, don’t forget to use protection!” she called over her shoulder as she darted out the front door, leaving both men with blushes crawling up their necks.

“I’m sorry about her,” Stiles muttered.

“Is she always so crude?”

“Unfortunately. She was sweet when I met her but then she got bored of playing into other peoples expectations and this is the result,” he snorted. “I’ve no idea how Boyd puts up with her.”

“Oh I’m sure he has his ways,” Derek smirked again. “I’ve just got one request if that’s okay?” he asked and Stiles’ raised an eyebrow for him to continue. “Never let her meet Laura.”

“I’ll to by best,” Stiles laughed just as the doorbell went off.

“What the hell?” Derek muttered as he turned around to get the door.

“One Meat-Lovers Pizza?” yawned the guy on the other side.

“Oh shit, I totally forgot about that, yeah that’s mine, here,” Stiles nudged Derek to the side and handed the guy some change. “Sorry about the coins. Thanks,” he smiled, taking the box from the deliveryman.

“You ordered pizza at two in the morning?” Derek asked incredulously.

“We were hungry!” Stiles defended. “Besides, Erica ate most of the other two. Here, do you want some?” he asked, setting the box down on the breakfast bar and taking a seat on one of the spinning stools. “Seriously, help yourself,” he insisted, pushing the box in Derek’s direction and urging him to take the seat opposite him.

“I didn’t even know they delivered pizza at this time,” he muttered.

“The joys of living in the city,” Stiles’ grinned. And Derek couldn’t help but think it lit up his face just a little. “Anyway, I wanted to chat to you because I’m seriously socially incompetent sometimes and ground rules are a must have if you don’t want me prying into things I really shouldn’t be prying into. Also, I want to find someway to pay you back for this because you are seriously saving my ass- No, I don’t want to here it,” he waved away Derek’s protests. “I’ve got to pay off just under a months rent from my last place but after that I’ll contribute to whatever you pay here, it won’t be much but I want to pay something. Also why the hell were you only coming back from work at two in the morning? What the hell do you do dude? That can’t be healthy,” he babbled, picking at his pizza toppings and removing all the ham.

“You ordered Meat-Lovers and you don’t like the ham?” was all Derek could respond with.

“Hey! Coming from the guy who just pealed off all the pepperoni!” Stiles protested.

“I didn’t order it,” he pointed out.

“Well then you won’t mind if I nick it,” Stiles retorted, pinching the bits of peperoni that Derek had placed carefully back in the box and shoving them in his mouth. The way he licked his fingers afterward was just a little obscene in Derek’s opinion.

“You’re disgusting,” he muttered.

“You married me,” was the answering grin, eliciting an eye roll from the older man.

“Okay, you want ground rules?” Derek changed the topic back to what it was originally supposed to me. Stiles nodded. “Don’t go in my room, don’t eat my food, don’t go through my desk and don’t get anything on the leather sofas – seriously, Laura will have my head if you do.”

“That’s it?”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t throw a huge party in here but if you do, give me some warning so I’m not around. Also, if I’m working, I’d really appreciate it if you weren’t too loud,” Derek shrugged. “The normal stuff I guess. But this is your apartment too now Stiles, do whatever you need to do to make yourself at home – although I’ll draw the line at pissing on the furniture. And as for rent, I don’t pay any – Laura and I bought this place.”

“Are you even real?” Stiles gaped. “You actually _own_ this place?”

“ _We_ own it,” Derek responded.

“You and Laura?”

“No… You and me.”

“Oh… _oh_. Shit, I hadn’t even thought about that. I don’t really own it though, accidental marriage aside, and I do want to contribute something.”

“It’s really not necessary but if it means that much to you I’m sure we can figure something out. I’ll give it some thought.”

“Okay, thanks,” Stiles smiled. “Here, have the last piece, I’m stuffed,” he pushed the last slice across to Derek. “So you going to tell me where you work or am I going to be left in the dark? I know you’re Boyd’s boss but I’m pretty sure Boyd never comes home at ass-o’clock in the morning.”

“I’m an architect, head of my own company, I make my own hours,” Derek shrugged.

“And your own hours are this?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Not usually, I had some stuff that I needed to finish and I wanted to let you settle in.”

“ _Dude_!” Stiles sighed. “This is only going to work if I don’t chase you out of your own apartment! Hell it probably would’ve helped if you were here so I wasn’t panicking about moving the freaking coffee table! You just left me alone in an apartment I’d never been in before – and while I’m pretty amazed by the trust you have in me I was kinda freaked out a little, we should have had the guideline rules before you took off,” Stiles rattled.

“Oh… Right, I’m sorry,” frowned the older man. “You didn’t chase me out, I just figured you would be more comfortable settling in on your own but I see why that was probably not such a great idea,” Derek muttered. “And I do trust you Stiles. I don’t know why – maybe because Boyd trusts you and I have a lot of faith in Boyd’s opinions of people but even so… I trust you and thank you for letting me know.”

“That’s, uh… thanks? Sorry if I’m a bit blunt, I’m not kidding when I say I’m socially awkward,” he snorted self-depreciatingly. “But this is good. Communication… We might actually be able to make this work,” he smiled and the sudden change of mood threw Derek for a second.

“You cannot _possibly_ be more socially awkward than me,” he stated in complete seriousness. Stiles couldn’t have stopped the laughter that bubbled from him even if he’d tried.

“Well that just about sums us up, I guess: two social awkward roommates that just happened to be married,” he laughed, pulling another small smile from Derek. “Okay so you’re probably exhausted and I’m kinda sleepy myself so I’m gonna go and probably suffocate in that glorious bed you’ve given me and I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I leave for work at eight.”

“Okay well I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon then,” Stiles chuckled. “And you seriously make your own hours? You’re nuts.”

“You married me,” Derek smirked and Stiles probably should have seen that one coming. “Good night Stiles.”

“Good night Derek,” Stiles returned, doing his best to ignore the way his name rolled off Derek’s tongue and ducking into his new room with his heart hammering a little louder than necessary.

-X-

Several days later found Stiles banging on the bathroom door demanding that Derek hurry the fuck up or they were going to be late to Erica and Boyd’s. “And believe me Derek – Erica is not a person who takes well to being made to wait!”

“Alright! Alright,” Derek grumbled, yanking the bathroom door open and letting out a cloud of steam.

“Jeez, how hot was your shower,” Stiles hissed, blinking through the steam and determinedly not looking at his roommate’s chest. Which was bare. And beautiful. And so off-limits. “Is that an Avengers towel?” he found himself gawping before he could stop himself. Because _no_ , he was _not_ checking his roommate out.

“Shut up,” was the gruff response.

“Holy shit! You’re a secret nerd!” he squealed.

“I said: _shut up_ ,” growled Derek.

“Nope, nope. We are definitely having a conversation about this when we get back.”

“Aren’t you going to be late,” Derek leered, stepping aside and letting Stiles trip into the bathroom with renewed urgency. “By the way… I may have used all the hot water,” he grinned before shutting the door in the kid’s face.

By the time they were locking the door behind them, all showered and cleaned up, they were already fifteen minutes late. Stiles was a nervous ball of energy as he tumbled down the stairs and stepped out into the cooling autumn air.

“She’s going to kill us,” he muttered.

“Relax, I’m sure Boyd will protect you.”

“You seriously overestimate mine and Boyd’s friendship if you think he would stand between me and his girlfriend.”

“I would seriously underestimate Boyd’s intelligence if he stood between _anyone_ and his girlfriend,” Derek snorted, his breath leaving a faint trail in the air.

“My point exactly!”

“You’re such an idiot,” he huffed.

“You married me.”


End file.
